


Time Out

by nitamar



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3113036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitamar/pseuds/nitamar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between The Almost People and A Good Man Goes to War. Between the Doctor and Rory. I think that's enough said :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Out

The Doctor walks into the console room - it's night time in the TARDIS. All the lights are dimmed and the old girl is gently rocking in the Votex. She knows how to arrange these kind of things. Night and day, arise and rest. Much as he is accident prone (he knows that alright. Eleven hundred years. Of course he notices), nothing ever happens when he or his companions needs a rest, to catch their breath or simply when it's getting too much. Thus she would not make day time come any sooner in this timeless space even though it is destined to be a sleepless night for the people on board.

There is a thick silence in the TARDIS. More silent than usual, than when Theta is alone. Perhaps it's because under the silent, every now and then, he felt he should say something. He tried different word combinations in his head, but still nothing is ever uttered. The ice never broken.

It's strange, really strange, when there's only him and Rory in the vast space of the ship, without Amy between them. He had wished and hoped for a moment like this before, but when it comes...well, that's how life is, isn't it? It gives you what you want, now and then, but always remembers to make something a little bit wrong.

He leant on the console as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Then he sensed something not usual. He poked his head around the console. His hearts went a bit off rhythm. He caught his breath inside his lungs in time, not to disturb the scene in front of him

The TARDIS door is open. The blueness of the universe spills in through the door, lighting up the front half of the floor, cutting a long silhouetto of a man. Checked shirt. Puffy vest. Rory is standing in the TARDIS doorway. His back straight, facing forward.

Theta walks slowly toward him. Not dare to make a sound. Not dare to breakthe balance of sound. Not dare to disturb the figure in his own thoughts

There is something intimidating about the way Rory is standing. He emits a strong, Back Off. Don't Mess With Me just simply by his presence. He had two thousand years to perfect this art, after all. Theta wonders if that is what the man's thinking of now, two thousand years, guarding a box. He's got a box now, HIS box, but the girl he's vowed to guide is not here. Theta feels a pang of something hit him, hard and solid, on his chest. Suffocates him. Anger? Guilt? Regret? Jealous?

What was he thinking when he waited a bit too late to ask them about the chips? What was that panic he felt when he saw Rory with the dooplegangers? What was that tugging on his hearts, making him almost losing his cool when Amy asks about Rory? Rory, Rory, Doctor Where’s Rory. Always with the Rory. What's wrong with you Amy I'm trying to concentrate. Stop it. Rory!...

Slowly the Doctor approaches the Centurian. He glances sideways at him. Rory doesn't seem to notice him. His face calm and determined. His eyes staring at the universe spread out in front of him. Though the Doctor knows he's not really looking at anything. And even if he is, nothing in the universe would ever dare stare back.

The two man hadn't shared a word. The last sound that's not from the TARDIS herself, was the begging voice of Amy, the buzzing of his sonic, still hangs in the air. Demanding to be heard again and again. And will no doubt haunt their dreams when they finally give in to it.

Rory just looked at the white poodle on the floor, looked at it for a long time. Then he looked up at the Doctor, there was no accusation in those eyes like they used to, no anger, no panic, just...blank. The stare made the Doctor shiver. He wanted to explain, to plead, to beg for forgiveness. A thousand things he should say chased each other. He couldn't grab one and actually make his mouth say it. But Rory didn't wait for him to say anything. He didn't demand anything. With one last hollow glance at the Time Lord he turned and left the console room. To where Theta had no idea/

The Doctor opens his mouth several times. He hates silence. He hates nothing's happening. The hollow space is threatening to make the weight he puts on the place in his hearts that leads to a black hole wobble.

He puts on a cheerful face, switch his aura of energy to maximum, and opens his mouth again.

"No, Doctor." Rory says. Without glancing sideways. His voice emotionless, albeit a little horased, from the lack of use in the past few hours, perhaps.

The two words works like a pin in the bubble the Doctor just wrapped himself in. He doesn't even hear the faint pop. "Rory." he says instead, softly and gently as if the soundwaves could break the man in front of him, older than he is. And lived it the hard way. "I will find her." Theta says in a murmur. Of course he will. He loves Amy. Dearly. "We will find her." Rory said suddenly, as if they hadn't been talking and silence had just been broken. His voice determined, restrained. His eyes meet Theta's, he almost flinches and has the urge the take a step back.

"Yes. Of course." The Doctor mumbled. Not sure what else to say. The Doctor wanted to look away, to avoid the gaze, to hide from the three thousand years' worth of burden between them. "Don't worry, we will." His mouth instinctively talking ,like he always does when his brain is jammed.

At that moment something went out in Rory's eyes. Like a pair of doors shut closed. He's suddenly this young boy who had just lost his love. He slumps down onto the fllor. His knees curl up to his body. Rory Williams buries his head down, and begins to sob.

The Doctor is at a loss. A Centurian plotting for revenge is frightening, but a crying Rory is something totally beyond his depth.

"Hey Rory. Hey." The Doctor crouched down, awkwardly he patted Rory on the back. "We will find her. She is alive and well somewhere. I promise." Theta has a million theories why Amy should be safe and well. But he can't say it. He knows Rory. Always the first in line to remind him when he is to make a promise, who is to promise him? He'd be quick to snort, to make a sarcastic comment. To beat him down.

He was expecting the above things to happen, but instead he suddenly found his arms full of the broken centurion's warmth, the softness of his puffy vest, his hair on his cheek. Rory Williams was hugging the Doctor tight, clinging to him to be more precise. If Rory had not been sobbing his heart out on his shoulder Theta should suspect had someone been peeking at his Christmas list. The Doctor closed his eyes for a moment, let himself enjoy the moment. This is a nice change. No accusing finger, no fist pounding his chest demanding him to put things right. Rory has no illusions about the Doctor. They both know it's going to be hard. They both know his promise is as vulnerable as his hearts, but they both know they are going to try their best, at each other's side, the last Time Lord and the last Centurion. They are equal in every way. They will be a true team, not a hero and his sidekick. But they are also...just creatures of flesh and blood. Their inner will can only support them this far. This was not tears (and pain like his hearts are torn apart for the Doctor) of sorrow or anger or anything of the sort. It is the bottle that had been filled to the brim. It has to get out to somewhere, had to empty it some time to get more storage room.

For a relieving moment, Theta let his mind stopped buzzing. Let the stressed nerves that was constantly analyzing all time and space and battling this conscious and that get their breath back.

After a long while, as the fog in his head started to clear and he was aware of his surroundings again, The Doctor grabbed Rory's shoulders gently, delicately, and pulled him up a bit so he could look at his face. Rory's eyes were half closed from all the tears, and he is slightly out of breath. Slowly, Theta pressed his cold lips to the trembling Centurion's. And kept it there, felling the salt tears stinging his own face. Then he pulled apart. Rory was no longer crying. He was staring at him with wide eyes. "Doctor..." he breathed, chest heaving.

"Now we go find Amy." Theta said, And he pulled Rory up to his feet.


End file.
